


Changeable As the Woge

by htbthomas



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Community: grimm_exchange, F/M, Gen, Identity Reveal, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/pseuds/htbthomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe just wants to enjoy a nice walk in the park with Rosalee. He should have known that would be too easy.</p><p>Written for captain91 for grimm_exchange 2012. Speculative for events after episode 2.12, “Season of the Hexenbiest.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changeable As the Woge

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to monkeyonthelam and alphie for betaing help!

"Here you go, mocha latte, no whip, just the way you like it." Monroe placed the coffee in Rosalee's hand, and she smiled up at him so brilliantly, he thought would melt. He had missed her so much while she was away.  
  
"Thanks." She took a sip, and closed her eyes with pleasure. "Couldn't be more perfect if you made it yourself."  
  
"Actually..." he said, taking the chair across from her at the tiny wooden table with his own cup of black coffee. "If  _I_  were making it, I'd use organic beans and fresh milk from this farm on the edge of town. We’ve had this deal ever since I fixed his family's hundred fifty-year old cuckoo clock." Leaning forward, he added conspiratorially, "I promise you, if you were drinking  _that_ , your eyes would roll back in your head."  
  
Rosalee laughed, an amazingly musical sound, the most melodic thing ever, right up there with the sweet spot of a cello's middle register. "I believe you. Don't they say that they use organic beans and farm-fresh milk here, too?"  
  
"They say it, but..." He tapped his nose. "I know better." Still, the place served their favorite coffee, it was close to both Rosalee's shop and a lovely city park with lots of benches for sitting and chatting. In fact... "You wanna take these to go? It's a gorgeous day."  
  
"Sure." Slinging her purse over her shoulder with one hand, she hefted the compostable paper cup with her other. "To the park?"  
  
He smiled. "You know me so well."  
  
The park was a couple blocks down and across the street. They passed other couples, a father and child, and a woman on her way back to the office, whose eyes were more on her cell phone than the sidewalk. With a squawk -- a literal one -- she almost ran into Rosalee.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Plumage sprouted from around her face in her alarm.  
  
Rosalee checked her clothes, to see if any coffee had splashed on her. There were a few drops, hanging from the hem of her sweater, and Monroe started to point them out, but... "It's fine," Rosalee told the woman, her Fuchsbau fur shifting out and back again to show she was a friend. Monroe bit his lip, keeping the Blutbad under the surface, as usual. Most  _Wesen_  weren't exactly thrilled to see his kind out and about.  
  
"Oh, thank god. Sorry again!" She flitted off, tucking her phone in her purse.  
  
Rosalee checked herself again, wiping at the hem of her shirt. "Do you see any drips?"  
  
“Um, well... there are a few...” He leaned in to start to wipe them off, but she was already taking a tissue to them and he hopped back out of the way awkwardly. “If you didn’t know, why did you tell her it was fine?”  
  
Rosalee shrugged. "She might be a customer someday."  
  
Monroe shrugged back. "Hmm, when you look at it that way..." The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, like the feeling of being watched. The sensation was stronger in the predator  _Wesen_ species, and it was usually correct.  
  
He whirled, peering into the park. Sitting right there, on a bench facing them, was Juliette.  
  
"Monroe?" she called. "Is that you?"  
  
Rosalee gave him a look of curious interest. "Is that Juliette?" she murmured. "Nick's Juliette?"  
  
"Yeah," he murmured back, “We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well through all this mess.” Louder, he called out, waving, "Hey, Juliette!" He put an arm around Rosalee's shoulder and led her through the light traffic across the street.  
  
"Nice to see you, Monroe." Juliette turned to Rosalee with a friendly smile. "Have we been introduced?"  
  
Rosalee didn't even blink. She knew Juliette, had tried to help save her from the spell that placed her in a coma, but of course, Juliette knew nothing about that. Yet. She shifted her coffee cup to her other hand and held out her right hand to shake. "I'm Rosalee, Monroe's girlfriend."  
  
"Juliette," she answered, and after letting go of Rosalee's hand, turned to Monroe. "Girlfriend? When did this happen? How come you’ve never mentioned her?"  
  
"Whoa!" he teased. "Who's the detective, you or Nick?"  
  
Her face fell for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "I just—"  
  
"No, I'm sorry, I was just making a joke, a bad one.” He grimaced. Great job, Monroe, bringing up Nick when she’s still in so much pain! He tried to get the subject back on track. “We've been together a couple months now. Rosalee owns the shop I’ve been working in."  
  
"Oh!” She looked down at her hands, probably remembering the last time she was in the shop. Or more likely, when she had  _fled_  from the shop.  
  
"Yes, I own it," Rosalee said, taking a seat beside her without asking permission. "And how are  _you_  doing? I hear it’s been pretty rough lately."  
  
Juliette looked up at Monroe with surprise that Rosalee knew so much. Monroe gave her an awkward grimace. "We talk. You know, boyfriends and girlfriends kinda do that?"  
  
"Plus," Rosalee added, "I consider Nick to be a good friend."  
  
“Really?” She squinted into Rosalee’s face. “And we’ve never met before?”  
  
"Well, we..." She looked to Monroe for assurance. He nodded—she didn't need to hide anything. She continued, " _I_  have met you, anyway. I... I came to see you in the hospital when you were in the coma."  
  
"You did?" Juliette's surprise melted into a smile. "That's so sweet."  
  
Rosalee added, "I thought I might be able to help."  
  
"With a coma?" Juliette was confused now. "Are there... herbal remedies for it?"  
  
Rosalee’s demeanor was serene. "I hoped I had the right mixture for your condition, yes."  
  
"Hmm," Juliette said, seeming to accept the explanation. "Well, maybe you still do. That problem... “ She grimaced uncomfortably. “...I’m having with Sean... isn’t over yet." Then she slumped, hands fluttering in despair. “And on top of that, now I’m seeing things that aren’t really there.”  
  
Rosalee patted her hand. “What kinds of things?”  
  
“You’ll think I’m crazy...”  
  
“I promise we won’t.” Monroe was beginning to think that things were only going to get crazier, the longer he was friends with a Grimm.  
  
“Uh... I’m seeing fur and feathers where there shouldn’t be any.” She bit her lip.  
  
Monroe and Rosalee looked at each other in surprise, adrenaline-infused-with-worry causing them to transform in unison.  
  
Juliette's eyes opened wide and she shrank back. "Like that!"  
  
In a moment, their  _Wesen_  faces disappeared. "Like what?" Monroe asked, his heart rate quickening.  
  
"You could see that?" Rosalee asked, more interested than worried.  
  
Juliette nodded, eyes still wide. "I saw you do it across the street, but I was sure it was just a trick of the light. Now I'm... how do you...?"  
  
“I think the better question,” Monroe squatted beside her, his voice strained, “is how do  _you_?”  
  
Rosalee gave him a glance that said, 'Stop freaking out, Monroe, you'll scare her.' He tried to smile—he hoped it didn't seem too nervous.  
  
"What exactly are you seeing?" Rosalee asked gently.   
  
Juliette swallowed. "It's like... a mask, almost. Like the features of a fox..." She looked at Monroe. "...or a wolf... layer over your own."  
  
Monroe sighed. "She can see it, all right."  
  
Juliette looked between the two of them. "Is that what  _you_  see?"  
  
"All  _Wesen_ —our word for what we are—can see it," Rosalee explained.  
  
"And usually humans—what you are," Monroe added unnecessarily, "can't see it."  
  
Juliette started wringing her hands, and Monroe began to wonder whether she was going to break down right there. Instead, she shocked him again. "Except Nick," she said quietly.  
  
Monroe put a hand over his mouth. But he nodded.  
  
Juliette closed her eyes. “And that’s why he’s always involved in all these crazy cases, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah... well... mostly.” Monroe was overwhelmed with the feeling that this was  _not_  his place to explain to her. But who else could she talk to? “Nick only started seeing us about a year ago. And he’s got quite a few special talents beyond that.”  
  
She opened her eyes, but didn’t look up. "Does that mean I'm...?"  
  
"Like Nick? No, it's not like a disease you get through contact—"  
  
"Monroe," Rosalee warned.  
  
He tried again, "I mean, it's passed from parents to children, inherited, I guess."  
  
"So Nick's...?"  
  
"Mom. And aunt, too. Not his dad, I don't  _think_. Or not that Nick knows, anyway."  
  
"Okay, then." Juliette finally looked directly into Monroe's eyes. "Why  _can_  I see it?"  
  
"Um..." He rubbed at the back of his neck and stood up. "I really don't know. When did it start?"  
  
“A few weeks after I got out of the hospital. I thought I was seeing things, or having nightmares. And the more my...” Her cheeks colored. “...obsession with Sean increased, the more I saw it. I thought I was having some sort of PTSD... or going insane.”  
  
"It sounds like it was the spell that did it," Rosalee mused. "Or could it have been the potion we gave her?"  
  
"If all it took was being spelled by a  _hexenbiest_ , we'd have humans all over the place jumping every time one of us changed."  
  
"True..."  
  
Juliette held her hands up between them to cut their speculation off. "Wait, wait, wait! Spell? Potion? Hexenb..."  
  
" _Biest, Hexenbiest_. Sort of like a... witch? The one who did it to you was...” Monroe swallowed. “Adalind Schade."  
  
“What?” Juliette looked between Rosalee and Monroe with dawning horror. “I thought Nick was crazy when he arrested her. But you’re saying... Witches are  _real_?"  
  
"As real as the two of us," Rosalee said, laying a hand on hers. "Do you mind if I...?" When Juliette nodded numbly, Rosalee turned her wrist over to examine it. "There's still a scar from the cat scratch."  
  
Juliette rubbed the faintly visible cat scratch marks with two fingers. "I get scratches all the time at work, but this one won't go away." Her eyes got worried again. "Is that why? Her magic cat?"  
  
"Used in a spell. Adalind, as a  _hexenbiest_ , was trying to hurt Nick by hurting you." Rosalee patted Juliette's wrist gently before putting her hands back in her lap.  
  
"I guess it worked. I forgot Nick completely." She looked more sad than angry at learning the truth. “And then all the stuff with Sean started happening...” Her eyes filled with emotion; Monroe wasn’t completely sure what kind.  
  
"But I still don't know why you're seeing the  _woge_ —the change," Monroe said. "Are you going to tell Nick about it?"  
  
"I don’t know... for the longest time I wasn't completely sure I was really seeing anything at all. And now he doesn’t even want to talk to me."  
  
"Tell him," Monroe and Rosalee said almost on top of each other.  
  
"The first chance you get," Monroe added fervently. "Believe me, he'll want to know. No matter  _what_  is going on between you."  
  
"I promise," she said, trying a weak, but sincere, smile. Then she glanced at her watch and startled. "Oh no, my lunch break was over 10 minutes ago!" She stood quickly, slinging her purse over her shoulder in the same motion. "But it was so nice to see you, both of you.” She gave Monroe a brief hug, which Rosalee noted with interest. “And thank you!"  
  
Monroe gave her an awkward nod, but Rosalee was gracious as always. "You're welcome. Come by the shop any time. We can talk more about all of this."  
  
“I will!” Juliette began to jog away, but then she stopped suddenly and turned back to them. “Hey, if I can see,” she swirled her hands around her face, “the ‘change’ now, does that mean I could see Adalind for who she really is?”  
  
“Well...” Monroe hedged, “She’s lost her magic, so no.”  
  
“But from what I hear, she’s no less dangerous,” Rosalee added.  
  
“Okay, thanks. I’ll remember that.” She headed off toward her practice again.  
  
“Wait, why?” Monroe called to her.  
  
Juliette simply threw an unreadable look over her shoulder and kept walking.  
  
“Huh.”  
  
Rosalee smiled. “A Grimm needs someone like that, someone who understands, and isn’t afraid of the truth. I hope they work it out.”  
  
“Needs someone?” Monroe protested. “What am I, chopped  _Leber_?”  
  
Rosalee laughed. Setting down her coffee, she hugged Monroe around the waist. “You’re  _mine_ , and don’t you forget it.”  
  
Monroe stretched his lips into an exaggerated ‘oh’. “I won’t!” Then he relaxed into her embrace. Now that another Grimm-influenced crisis had passed, it was time to get back to enjoying Rosalee’s return. He gestured ahead of them. “Where to?”  
  
Rosalee lifted onto her tiptoes to give him a light peck on the lips. “Somewhere quiet.”  
  
Oh, man. How far was it to the nearest forest?


End file.
